Moptop
by Ceolsige
Summary: FE7 . Who would've thought that under all that hair, Lowen was such a hunk? Now the entire army is after him, but all he wants is the attention of one girl. LowenRebecca! Overwhelming silliness ahead.
1. Hello there, handsome!

A/N: WELL, HEY THERE, YOU GUYS. I've been wanting to write this story for a long time, and I figure it's about time I started fanfic-ing again. Lowen is one of my favorite FE7 characters, and RebeccaLowen one of my favorite FE7 couples. I hate how people always say that Rebecca should be with Wil or Raven or whoever. Perhaps because he's not as "omfg_hawt!_" as them. OR SO THEY THINK! Who knows what Lowen looks like under that moptop? This is fic is about just that, and it will be excessive amounts of crack, stupid, and silly. I hope. So enjoy!

Oh, and there will be shounen ai hints in this in later chapters, but the main pairing will indeed be RebeccaLowen.

* * *

Moptop

Chapter 1: Hello there, handsome!

Blood-curdling screams and the sound of clashing metal rang in Lowen's ears as he galloped through the fray at full speed. His breathing was heavy, and dirt, sweat and blood covered his body. He gripped his lance as firmly as he could; the adrenaline pulsing through him put him on edge and prevented him from keeping a steady hold. His lance was worn and battered, and his horse was exhausted, but he pressed on, drowning out the brutal sounds of battle and concentrating on the clatter of hoof beats on the beaten earth below.

His target came into sight; he raised his lance, ready to strike, aiming for the gap in his opponent's armor. The enemy general parried his thrust just in time and deflected the blow as Lowen rode past. He reined his horse around and moved in for another attack. This time he hit, and felt the sickening feeling of flesh instead of armor under his lance. He jerked his arm back in an attempt to tug the lance free, but when it didn't come out first try, he looked up just in time to see the man pull back and thrust his lance forward, before his vision blurred and an explosion of pain erupted in his head. The last thing he saw was the ground coming up to meet him.

**x x x**

"Priscilla! I need that salve! Now!" Serra ordered. "Since I'm your senior cleric, you have to do as I say when I say, and now means _now!"_

Priscilla passively handed the salve she'd finished making to the bossy pink-haired girl.

"Senior?" she asked quietly, as Serra snatched the salve away and started applying it to their patient. "Serra, we are of the same age, and if anything, I would be your elder—"

"I've been here the longest, so I'm the senior cleric, end of story," Serra replied haughtily. "Now, bandages!" She held out her hand expectantly, and Priscilla passed them to her with an inward sigh.

"Ugh! Why does he always have his hair in his eyes? How dreadful. Once he recovers, I'll be sure to give him some advice on what a knight should look like. Priscilla, help me tie these bandages before the wound starts bleeding again!"

The redhead troubadour lifted the young knight's head and held the end of the bandage in place as Serra wrapped the cloth around the wound on his head.

"You know, a lady such as I should not have to see so much blood! If I wasn't so dedicated and virtuous, I just might have passed out from all this barbarity!" Serra continued on, not bothering to keep her voice in check for the groaning patients of the medical tent. Just as she finished tying the bandage, Lowen stirred and groaned, bringing a hand up to his aching head.

"How do you feel, Sir Lowen?" Priscilla asked, keeping her tone soft and quiet.

"Is milord safe?" he asked, pain evident in his voice as he struggled to sit up.

"Lord Eliwood is unharmed," Priscilla answered. "Please do not strain yourself – if you are in pain, then rest."

Lowen removed his hand from his head and looked up at the two healers. The bandage around his head had lifted his hair out of his eyes, and he felt strangely exposed without it there. He started to ask about another person – someone he had been hard-pressed to save, someone who'd been in the thick of battle when she should've been behind lines – when he saw the two girls' faces visibly color. A pang of panic struck him as he wondered if he wasn't properly covered; a quick check with his hands told him that wasn't the case.

"What is it?" he asked, urgency in his voice.

The two girls looked at each other, then turned and marched out of the medical tent, leaving Lowen in a state of pure confusion.

Outside, a number of the army had gathered, waiting to hear news of one ally or another. Many were concerned about Lowen – suffering a head injury was quite serious.

"Serra? Lady Priscilla? How is Lowen?" Marcus asked. Tough and experienced as he was, Marcus had a soft spot for his pupil – one that he'd only allow to show when said pupil wasn't there.

"S-Sir Lowen is… well," Priscilla stammered out after a moment. Her cheeks, as well as Serra's, were still flushed. "His injury isn't serious, though it'd be best if he stayed out of direct conflict for a few days… Other than that, he's… that is to say, he's…"

"He's _gorgeous!_" Serra practically shrieked the words, and all eyes turned to her. Priscilla's face turned a deeper shade of pink.

"Excuse me?" Eliwood asked after a moment of silence that lasted too long.

"I had never expected him to be so handsome under that mess of hair! He might even be my equal in looks! He nearly took my breath away!" Serra exclaimed, dramatically pressing the back of hand to her forehead. Priscilla let a soft, melancholy sigh escape from next to, her hand pressed to her heart.

"To think such a stunning, brave man was in our midst this entire time…" she said, wistfully. The entire company looked on at this display in utter and complete disbelief.

"Stop messing around," Matthew finally said. "We all know Lowen's just a high-strung goof."

"Don't be so mean, Matthew!" Nino said, and stomped on the thief's foot. Matthew winced and growled at the little mage, but she ran for cover behind Jaffar.

The tent flap of the medical tent rustled, and all eyes turned to it – Serra's and Priscilla's filled with anticipation. Lowen lifted the tent flap and stepped out, looking around at all the people staring at him. His back went rigid as panic struck.

"I-I apologize for my incompetence in the last battle!" he stammered out. "I plan on doubling – no, tripling! – my amount of lance thrusts per day, and I will begin training more rigorously with the sword! In addition, I will— "

"St. Elimine, he _is_ hot!"

Lowen stopped his monologue, thinking he'd heard wrong. When he heard a wolf whistle, a feeling like his usual anxiety crept up his spine. But worse.

* * *

A/N: I know that characters have been/will be OOC in this, but keep in mind this is just for fun and if you don't like it then… well… don't read it. Please excuse any misspellings or grammatical errors – I tried to proofread it but… I get bored really easily. I hope you liked reading this more than I liked trying to reread it. I guess I just – ooh, look, a penny! … Yeah, so, the more people bug me, the faster I'll update this. I'm bad with multichapter fics, but I'm going to try on this one! For Lowen's sake! 


	2. This isn't what it looks like!

A/N: Well, I'm certainly glad that everyone likes this so far! I can't guarantee how fast I'll be able to update due to certain factors of my life, which includes but is not limited to my procrastination. So, uh, not much else to say, except thank you to those that have read, and love to those that have reviewed. BECAUSE REVIEWERS ARE MORE SPECIAL!

Please keep in mind as you read this, all these people hitting on Lowen are just for fun. I know it's unlikely. I know it's stupid. But really, haven't you realized yet that that's what I do best? And you can't tell me the thought of Lucius/Lowen isn't hilarious.

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Moptop 

Chapter 2: This isn't what it looks like!

Lowen awoke early the next morning to a pulsing headache. He normally rose at that time of day to get an early start on his training and to help cook breakfast for the troops, but today, his head hurt far too much for him to concentrate on anything.

Though he dreaded another encounter with the girls at the healer's tent, he knew he needed to, at the very least, change his bandages. So, he made his way as quietly through camp as possible towards the healer's tent, silently praying that the tent would be empty and he could dress the wound himself.

As he reached the tent, his back went rigid just thinking of what could happen if the wrong person was in the tent. He was in no mood nor condition to be bombarded with their compliments and flattery. Steeling his nerves, he cautiously opened the tent flap as though it was as delicate a fabric as lace, and peered inside.

He let out a sigh of relief as he saw long blond hair and white and blue robes bustling about inside.

"Good morrow to you, Lucius," Lowen greeted, keeping his voice hushed for the sake of the injured who'd slept in the tent. Lucius turned upon hearing this and smiled warmly.

"Good morning, Sir Lowen," the monk replied in an equally soft tone. "How is your wound healing? Any pains?"

"Unfortunately, that's why I've come so early," Lowen replied. "Could you help me change the bandages?"

Lucius nodded, his long hair swaying as he motioned for Lowen to sit as he gathered the necessary items to redress the wound. The knight sat patiently as Lucius removed the dirtied bandages and applied the soothing ointment to his forehead, then set to wrapping the bandages around his head again, pulling his hair once again out of his eyes.

"I'm glad it was you here this morning," Lowen said as Lucius finished tying off the new cloth. The monk stopped and looked down at the young knight's face, surprised by such comment. He and Lowen hadn't know each other well, though they'd always been on polite, pleasant terms, so why was it that now, when Lowen looked up at him with that newly-discovered handsome face, did Lucius feel his cheeks coloring?

"Wh-whatever do you mean by that?" Lucius managed to stammer out, becoming increasingly aware of the close proximity of their faces.

"Sister Serra and Lady Priscilla were quite… erm… overbearing," Lowen replied, slumping his shoulders in memory of yesterday's ordeal. "I was relieved when I saw it was you here instead of them."

"Oh," Lucius breathed, feeling inexplicably disappointed at his reasoning. He was so concentrated on studying how adorable Lowen's freckles made his face look that the knight nearly bashed him in the head when he suddenly stood up. Lucius' face turned a bright shade of pink, realizing that Lowen's face was merely inches from his own now.

"Thank you, Lucius, but I must go help prepare breakfast now," Lowen said, and nodded his head in parting. As he turned to leave, he felt a hand on his sleeve yank him back and he turned to see the monk with a faint red tingeing his face.

"U-um… S-sir Lowen, you needn't leave just yet…"

The two stood there, staring awkwardly at each other, each wondering how in the world they ended up in this situation. The horrid silence was finally broken when the tent flap was opened and an imposing figure strode in.

"Lucius, I—"

The man's sentence was cut short upon seeing the scene before him. It could be entirely innocent, even though the monk let go of Lowen's arm as if it were in flames, but the man didn't seem to take it as such. A terrible sinking feeling formed in Lowen's gut as crimson eyes narrowed in his direction.

"Lord Ray—Raven!" Lucius exclaimed. Surprise, embarrassment, and nervousness were evident in his voice.

"Lucius, what is going on here?" Raven demanded.

Panic struck, and Lowen's spine straightened. "I'M SORRY SIR LUCIUS WAS HELPING ME CHANGE MY BANDAGES I HAVE TO GO COOK BREAKFAST NOW GOOD DAY TO YOU," he shouted and rushed out of the tent. Several annoyed groans from the sleeping injured were left in his wake.

Raven cocked an eyebrow. "What the hell was that all about?"

**x x x**

"Merlinus, please stop eating those biscuits! You already had breakfast!" Rebecca scolded, and the merchant stopped his chewing guiltily, then swallowed.

"I apologize, Rebecca, they're just… so very tasty."

The young archer sighed. Every morning she went through the same ordeal – rising earlier than the rest of the troops, cooking breakfast, and scolding Merlinus for eating the food intended for hard-working troops. Or at least, majority of them were hard working.

"Yeah, Uncle Merlinus, wait your turn like the rest of us!" Nino chided from next to Rebecca. "It's not nice to steal everyone's breakfast, even if you do help cook it!"

Nino had always been a morning person and had taken a liking to watching Rebecca and the others cook breakfast. She tried to help cooking breakfast once, but it ended up a disaster having to do with a bonfire and pancakes and a frying pan. Nobody even let her near the cooking fires for a week. To give Nino some credit, though, she was very good at flipping pancakes.

Next to the green-haired mage sat Jaffar, his face stoic and unreadable as usual. He'd made it a habit to go where Nino went, and Rebecca recalled her friend telling her that Jaffar didn't sleep much, so getting up early wasn't a problem for him.

"Show a bit more discipline, Merlinus," Marcus said from across the fire. "Soldier or no, you're in an army now. Set an example for the young recruits!"

"I apologize! I've just been so very hungry lately, what with these skimpy portions…" the merchant replied.

"Try going ten days without food," Guy mumbled, though his gaze was fixed on the food cooking in front of him. He'd always made sure to be there when breakfast was ready to be served so as to get first pick on the rations.

It was a pleasant morning ritual that Rebecca had come to enjoy. The early morning was virtually the only time there was some peace and quiet around the camp, and it was nice to sit with a small group instead of being surrounded by countless troops and having to shout over the roaring noise. But there was one person missing from their circle this morning – the one person Rebecca had been looking forward to speaking to.

"Has anyone seen Sir Lowen this morning?" she asked. All of her campfire comrades exchanged glances, but all shook their heads or shrugged their shoulders in answer.

"Idiot boy!" Marcus cursed. "Probably off training with that gash in his head and shirking his kitchen duties!"

"Or maybe he got cornered by some girls," Nino giggled. "He really is handsome, under all that hair!"

Rebecca looked at her friend with surprise. The idea hadn't occurred to her, but the entire reason she hadn't been able to approach him the day before was because all the girls were flocking around him at every turn. She frowned at the thought. She'd liked Lowen since she met him way back when it was just Eliwood, a couple of his knights and a handful of volunteers, and they'd become good friends during the march. This sudden surge of interest in her friend gave her an unsettling feeling in her stomach.

Of course, the sudden revelation that he was so good looking gave her butterflies in her stomach, as well.

"Sir Marcus, you must give the boy a little credit. He did do a number on that general you faced yesterday," Merlinus defended. Guy slapped his hand as it came a little too close to a dumpling that he'd been eyeing all morning. Merlinus cradled his hand as the myrmidon glared him – though it looked more like a pout on Guy's face.

Marcus snorted. "That general did worse to him! He'd be dead right now if Rebecca here didn't shoot an arrow into that gap in his armor," he said. Rebecca blushed and looked down at the cooking.

"He rescued me first," she retorted. "I was too far out and he risked his life for my sake. I never got to properly thank him."

"You should go look for him!" Nino suggested. "I can take over your part of the cooking!" A chorus of "NO!" sounded, and the little mage snickered. "I was only kidding, you guys!"

"You may as well, Rebecca. Breakfast is nearly ready anyways," Merlinus said. The archer smiled her thanks, stood and began to leave for the training area, when she heard Marcus yell, "And tell that lout I've got a few words to say to him!"

**x x x**

By the time Lowen reached safety from Raven ('safety' being the opposite side of the camp), he realized he'd forgot to help cook breakfast. And judging by the amount of troops emerging from their tents, it was too late to go help. His stomach was rumbling, but he hardly thought he would be left alone to eat in peace in the presence of the entire camp. It was for unexpected occasions like this he carried emergency rations with him. Some bread and dried jerky would suffice for breakfast, he decided.

Lowen had just bitten into his makeshift meal when a figure emerged from a nearby tent. He froze, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he began judging the surrounding area and scoping out possible places for him to hide nearby. That was completely unnecessary, however, since whoever it was had some difficulty with the tent flap getting caught on their clothing, giving him enough time to run for the hills, should the need arise.

The figure turned out to be the disgruntled young mage, Erk, and his usual frown didn't leave his face as he laid eyes on Lowen.

A minute passed and the mage didn't say anything, and the silence was too much for Lowen.

"U-um… G-good morrow to you, Erk! How, uh, are you?" he managed to stammer. The mage's unwavering gaze was as unnerving as his silence.

After a moment, Erk shrugged a shoulder and muttered an unenthusiastic, "fine" before continuing on his way. He flipped open a tome and began to read as he walked past the knight, but before he could even start to digest the information on the pages of the old book, his cloak caught on Lowen's armor, yanking him backwards and pulling the two of them to the ground.

Lowen heard the young mage muttering a string of curses and tugging on his cloak, trying to find the source of the snag. Erk didn't even seem to notice the… interesting position they'd found themselves in. Lowen was trapped on the ground, Erk on top of him, and his cloak caught on the back of his armor, effectively cementing the two together.

"Sit up," Erk commanded, obviously not in the mood for these shenanigans. Not that he ever was. Regardless, Lowen obeyed, and Erk had to look over his shoulder with his arms around him to see and detach his cloak, grumbling about his misfortune the entire time.

Any misfortune Erk had was soon doubled, as Priscilla and Serra arrived on the scene. The mage and the knight were informed of their approach by a pair of gasps in perfect unison.

"Oh, Erk… I simply cannot believe this…" Priscilla said, a look of hurt and betrayal on her face.

"You little sneak! You just want him because you're jealous I've turned my attention elsewhere!" Serra accused the made. "I'll have you know, Sir Lowen is too noble and pure to be foiled by your perverse attempts at capturing his attention! Besides, he is obviously enamored with me."

"My WHAT?!" Erk shouted. Lowen winced; the only place possible for Erk to shout at this moment in time was in his ear. He'd never seen the mage so flustered – his face was red, and he looked as though he was about to explode.

"Oh, you heard me, Erky!" Serra retorted, shaking her finger in scolding at him. "It's disgraceful! It's disgusting! I can hardly believe you've sunk so low as to try to seduce Sir Lowen in public! And in such an aggressive manner, too!" Priscilla nodded her agreement, apparently too stricken with grief for words.

"What? Seduce him!? Of all the asinine ideas – My cloak just caught on him armor – for St. Elimine's sake – why would you even suggest–" Erk raged, incapable of forming complete sentences.

To make matters worse, the commotion had drawn the attention of the couple that had been dozing in a nearby tent. Lord Pent and Lady Louise wandered over to the scene, curious as to what was causing such a ruckus so early in the morning.

"My, what is going on here?" Louise asked, trying for the life of her to suppress a giggle. Before Erk could calm himself enough to choke out a rational, coherent explanation of what at the time seemed like simple happenings, Serra jumped in and told her the version of the story she had convinced herself – and, consequently Priscilla, who backed up her every word – and she even added a few more farfetched details to the already farfetched story that made it seem even more obscene.

At the end of her recap, Pent raised his brows at his pupil. "Erk, I had no idea that your interests lie with men. I suppose I should have seen the signs, though, now that I think back on it…"

"Oh Erk, you needn't try and explain yourself! We will always accept you and love you for who you are!" Louise gushed.

Erk could've died right then and there. It would've been a lot less painful.

After a full minute of only being able to sit and twitch his eye, the mage yanked on his cloak, which tore with a resounding _rip!_, then stood and stalked off towards breakfast. The four spectators hurried off after him, all wanting to confront him about his apparent "coming out" that nobody had even told Erk of.

Lowen was left sitting on the ground with a very red face, feeling very confused, and very worried about what the rest of the day would hold.

* * *

Really, I love picking on Fire Emblem characters more than anything. I haven't touched any of the games in who-knows-how-long, but it's just so easy to write stupid stuff concerning them. I just looked at the reviews I got from people – for both this story and others – and I really do appreciate the praise you guys have given me; I can't even tell you how much. I'll try to update more, reeeally. 


	3. Don't hate me because I'm beautiful!

**A/N:** Wow, it only took me, what, four years? Well, replaying Rekka no Ken has just reminded me thirtyfold how much I absolutely adore Lowen. He's such a cute little dork, and undeniably one of my favorite characters in the game. And yet, despite all his awesome dorkiness, he's hardly ever recognized! So I just simply could not ignore this fic any longer. Here's to you, Lowen!

* * *

**Moptop  
**Chapter 3: Don't hate me because I'm beautiful!

After the unfortunate run-in with Erk, Lowen decided it would best to eat his breakfast in a tree near the training grounds. He hadn't climbed any trees since he was a young boy, but as he scrambled up the trunk and perched himself precariously on a branch, he assured himself it was decidedly safer than the ground. Yes, safer, because trees had a distinct lack of chatty, swooning clerics, monks with questionable sexuality and mages whose cloaks caught on your armor, thus putting you in terribly awkward and questionable positions for all the wrong people to witness.

Lowen took a bite of his bread and breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice to finally have a moment of peace, though his stomach churned with the thought of what the coming day would bring.

He was about to start eating his jerky when he heard a strange sound. He peered around, looking for the source of the sound, and it was a moment or three too late when he realized it came from above.

In retrospect, he should've realized that the strange sound was alarmingly similar to the voice of a young girl shouting that she was going to crash, and that while trees were a wonderful refuge from ground-dwelling clerics and monks and mages, he had never taken into account that he might have to deal with a winged horse crashing into the very tree he resided in, throwing both himself and the rider several feet to the ground.

Well, why not? Everything else had happened today; an attack from a pegasus should have been expected.

Lowen hit the ground with a hard _thud!_, and he nearly passed out from jostling his head wound so. He took a deep breath, steadying his head with his hand, when a heavy weight toppled onto him from above with an "oof!" and a groan, sending a dizzying pain through his forehead once again.

The weight was gone as soon as it came, followed closely by the frantic scuffling of boots on dirt and cries of "Huey! Huey, are you alright?!"

Lowen lifted himself up slowly, his head cradled carefully in his hand. Once he was steady on his feet, he turned to see a small pegasus knight with orchid hair – Florina, one of Lady Lyndis' knights, if Lowen recalled correctly – fussing over her mount. The beast was dirtied and had more than a few stray twigs stuck in its mane, but otherwise seemed unharmed.

"U-uh… excuse me…" Lowen said. "Is your steed injured?"

Florina practically jumped out of her boots at the sound of another voice, and a _male_ voice no less. In her concern for Huey, she had momentarily forgotten she had landed on someone. She turned around slowly to look at its owner, and her eyes widened upon seeing just who it was. As if facing a man wasn't bad enough – it was the drop-dead gorgeous Sir Lowen!

"Oh! U-um… I… That is… Um, h-he…" she stammered, her face turning crimson as she looked at the ground, at the trees, at anywhere but his face. "I-I think that he's, um… H-Huey's okay, but…" She stole a peek at the young sir knight, and oh! How handsome he was! She felt her heart swell and her knees wobble. She rarely ever took notice of men, and had hardly known of Lowen before yesterday, but now it was impossible _not_ to.

"A-a-a-are… Are you… um… D-did Huey… I-I mean… H-how is your…" Florina was still trying to form a coherent sentence when the two heard a pair of voices, their owners crashing through the small thicket of trees that separated the camp from the temporary training grounds.

"Florina! Are you out here?" came the first voice. Lowen turned and saw the two other pegasus knights of army coming their way. Fiora was the one who called out; the other, Farina, was fighting to free her shirt sleeve from a rogue tree branch. Exasperated, her sister grabbed the fabric and yanked it hard, successfully releasing the branch's hold on it, but also tearing the sleeve with a resounding _rip!_ Farina whined at her sister, declaring "_You'll pay for that!_" but Fiora only rolled her eyes. She turned again and spotted her youngest sister.

"Florina! There you are!" she exclaimed, smiling. "We saw you crash! Are you oka—oh!"

It was only then that Fiora noticed her little sister wasn't alone. She stopped short upon seeing Sir Lowen, and Farina, who was busy mourning her torn sleeve, bumped right into her sister's back.

"Hey, what's the—" she started, but then looked up and understood just why her sister had been frozen in her tracks.

Lowen had a bad feeling about this.

"S-sir Lowen! What a pleasant surprise to see you here!" Fiora said earnestly, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear coyly. "I thought that you cooked breakfast at this time of morning! I always look forward to your cooking at meal times. You are so very—"

Fiora was unceremoniously shoved aside by Farina, who leered at the young knight with a predatory grin. Lowen swallowed hard, fearing for his safety.

"Hey there, cutie!" she said, sidling up close to him. Lowen felt his spine go rigid at the proximity – if it was possible to be closer than "too close for comfort," then Farina was definitely stepping into that territory.

"G-greetings, Miss Farina…"

"You know, this army doesn't really have much to offer in way of dateable girls," Farina said seriously. "Sure, there's a couple cute ones, but mostly it's just full of old nags like Fiora over there. She's probably got wrinkles from worrying so much! But then there's a few real charmers, like me. I mean, look at me! I'm strong, I'm beautiful – no amount of money could buy this level of perfection! Now, I usually don't bother with guys, but just this once, I'll make an exception. So if you—"

"_Farina!_" Fiora roared. If that level of ferocity were ever directed at him, Lowen would probably faint from fright. After this ordeal, the battlefield was going to be a welcome blessing. "What on earth do you think you're doing?! You can't just push me out of the way when I'm trying to have a conversation with someone! Don't you have any manners?!"

"You see what I mean about the nagging?" Farina said to Lowen, jerking a thumb in Fiora's direction. She sighed as she faced her sister. "Listen, Fiora, I know that your ego probably can't handle this, but it was clear as day that Sir Lowen was quite bored by your feeble attempts at conversation. Obviously, my great beauty had distracted all his attention away from—eek!"

Farina stumbled forward as her sister pushed her in retaliation. She regained her footing quickly and turned to see a look on Fiora's face that declared war.

"Oh, so it's not okay when I do it, but it's perfectly fine when you do?" she snarled.

"Only if you have it coming," Fiora retorted sharply, her hands placed indignantly on her hips.

"I guess you won't mind _this_ then!"

Farina shoved Fiora again, who again returned the display, and before Lowen could even open his mouth to interject, the two were engaged in a full-scale cat fight. Florina ran forward, waving her arms and pleading with them to stop, but not daring to get close enough to actually separate her sisters. Lowen couldn't blame her.

Seeing as the three sisters had ironically all but forgotten his presence, he decided now was a good time to sneak away and seek refuge elsewhere.

He carefully tiptoed away, being sure to make as little noise as possible, not that they'd be able to hear anything over their shouting. He remained completely unaware of the three lords of the army, all of whom had observed the scene while helping the knights look for Florina after she had crashed.

"That kid's caused more trouble than he's worth," Hector stated, eying the battle that raged on. Farina was now quite vigorously pulling on Fiora's hair. He looked over to Eliwood. "He's _your _vassal, you oughta say something to him."

"What on earth would I say?" the red-headed lord asked, laughing. " 'Lowen, stop being so handsome, you're a distraction and you're making Hector jealous?' " Hector narrowed his eyes venomously at his friend, whilst Lyn burst into a fit of giggles.

"Poor Hector," Lyn teased, grinning. "As if the men in this army didn't make him feel inadequate already."

"Shut up, you two!" Hector growled. "I could remedy this situation quickly if I just chopped his head off." He picked up his axe, letting the sunlight gleam on it menacingly.

"I suppose that's one solution," Eliwood said, smiling. "But then you would have to face the wrath of all the young women in this army, all on your own."

Hector put down his axe.

"I'm sure things will go back to normal eventually," Lyn said. "In the meantime, you'll just have to deal with Sir Lowen being a great many times more handsome than you."

"Not you too, Lyn?" Hector asked, looking at the Sacaen incredulously.

Lyn shrugged. "What? I'm not fawning over him like all the other girls, but you can't deny that he's surprisingly attractive under that mess of hair."

Eliwood nodded empathetically. "I feel a little sorry for him, though. I highly doubt he's used to this kind of attention, and if it's troubling our poor oaf Hector here so much, just think of how much it must be troubling Lowen!"

**x x x**

Rebecca frowned. She had looked all over the place for Lowen, but he was nowhere to be found.

By the time she'd reached the training ground, the only people there were the three pegasus knights and the lords, with Lord Eliwood and Lord Hector restraining Fiora and Farina respectively. When she approached Florina and Lady Lyndis and asked what happened, Florina shied behind Lyndis – no doubt afraid of the bow Rebecca carried – and the other explained the sisters had gotten into a fight over Lowen. When Rebecca asked where he was, Lady Lyndis had pointed her in the direction he'd gone with a laughing smile and wished her luck.

That had been over an hour ago. She had wandered around the camp, asking if anyone had seen him and had stopped by the tent he shared with Sir Marcus several times, but he continued to elude her.

She sat herself down on the ground in front of his tent with a heavy sigh. Where could he be? Breakfast was probably drawing to a close, and if he hadn't shown up for cooking duties, she doubted he'd be there anyways. Perhaps the healers' tent? No, she reasoned, somebody would've seen him if he had gone there. He certainly wasn't in his own tent. Perhaps he was in someone else's? Maybe… another girl's?

"Rebecca! Hey!"

The green haired archer looked up and saw Nino trotting towards her, Jaffar trailing close behind. She smiled as her friend approached.

"Didja find Lowen?" she asked, offering a hand out to pull her up. Rebecca took it and shook her head as she stood.

"No, I can't find him anywhere," she replied dejectedly. "I've looked all over camp! I had no idea he was so good at hiding. Have you seen him anywhere?"

"Nope! But!" Nino smiled cheerily. "I heard some interesting stories about him at breakfast! From what Serra told me, it sounds like Erk tried to kiss him or something when he saw him earlier! I didn't believe her so I went up and I asked him myself, and he was so flustered he couldn't even say anything! He just got up and walked away and he was blushing!"

Rebecca snorted trying to hold back her laughter at the thought, which only made Nino laugh at her in return.

"Poor Lowen!" she finally said after she ceased her laughter. "No wonder he's been hiding." Nino giggled.

"Me and Jaffar could help look for him for you if you want!" the little mage said, brightly. "Jaffar wouldn't mind helping, would you?" She turned to the stoic assassin, whose eyes slid from staring off into space to Nino's bright eyes and pleading smile.

"… I'll help," he stated simply.

"See! We'll find him in no time!" Nino declared, striking a dramatic pose. She smiled at Rebecca. "We'll go look over there. I'll send up a spell as a signal if I find him and we can meet here! Okay?"

"Sounds good," Rebecca said. "Thank you, Nino! And you too, Jaffar." Nino smiled brightly in return, whereas Jaffar only nodded his head. The mage grabbed him by the hand and led him off, waving at Rebecca as she hurried away.

The archer turned in the opposite direction of the one Nino left in, and realized it led to the area with the cooking fires. Since it was so late, perhaps Sir Lowen went to eat late in order to avoid all the breakfast crowds, she reasoned. She peered around, hoping for a glimpse of shaggy green hair over the sea of tents, but when she saw nothing hinting at the cavalier's presence, she set off for the cooking fires.

As she approached the eating grounds, Rebecca felt her shoulders slump as she only saw a few stray troops sitting around and talking. Her eyes settled on Merlinus and Marcus, who were cleaning the pots and pans from the morning meal.

"… I'm telling you, Sir Marcus, look around you!" Merlinus was saying as Rebecca neared the two. "Blue is most definitely the new purple. Why, I can hardly turn my head without seeing a charming young girl or a striking young man adorned in the color."

"Bah!" Marcus spat out. "Shows how much you know, Merlinus! Sure, they wear blue _now_, but one can't very well keep up with the latest fashions while in an army, can they?" He shook a dirty spatula at the merchant. "_Red_, my friend. Red is the new purple. Some of the more sophisticated members of the army have already realized it! Look at that strapping lad Kent, for example. He knows what's what!"

"Don't be silly, Sir Marcus!" Merlinus retorted as he continued to scrub another pot clean. "Blue is the color of choice for many a noble I have seen throughout the land! Just look at Lord Eliwood! He's the picture of current fashion throughout Lycia! He holds himself with such grace and elegance even on the battlefield! How could someone such as he _not_ be in style?"

"Um… excuse me?" Rebecca interjected, smiling awkwardly as the two men turned their attention from their debate to the young archer. "Did Sir Lowen happen to come by here while I was looking for him?"

"That slacker hasn't been by all morning," Marcus said, tartly. "Haven't found him yet, eh?"

Rebecca shook her head. "I've been trying to find to him, but from what I gather, I think he's hiding from all the… you know." She frowned.

"Blasted fool," Marcus swore. "He'll show up soon if he knows what's good for him."

Rebecca smiled. "Thank you, Sir Marcus. I'll keep looking for him." She turned to leave, when Merlinus spoke up.

"Oh, Rebecca! Perhaps you could settle a disagreement." Rebecca grimaced as she turned to face the two older men once again. Merlinus continued, "Which color do you prefer in current fashions? Blue or red?"

She shifted awkwardly. "Forgive me, sirs, but… I've always been partial to green, myself."

Merlinus and Marcus looked at each other, momentarily considering this new revelation, then broke into a whole new heated argument over this new, so-called 'green' color. Admist the sudden outburst, Rebecca slipped away unnoticed.

She didn't get very far when she heard a familiar, animated voice.

"And then Mark was all like, 'The enemy general has been sighted, charge!' And then all the cavalry was like _woosh!_ And they rode past and I almost fell cause they went by so fast! It was scary! But then Lowen rushed out in front of everyone all heroic-like, and he stabbed the enemy general, but then the general got him back, _pow!_ Right in the head! He fell off his horse, and man, do I know how much that hurts! The general was gonna finish him off when Rebecca—oh! Hey! Rebecca! Over here!"

Rebecca smiled and waved as her old friend Wil called her over, waving his arms enthusiastically. Next to him sat Rath, who was busying himself with making new arrows as he listened to his fellow archer. He glanced up as she approached them, and nodded his greeting.

"I was just telling Rath about the battle yesterday!" Wil explained as Rebecca sat down near them. "He wasn't in the front lines so he didn't see what happened. You and Lowen really make a great team! I heard he rode all the way out there just to save you!"

The green haired archer felt her cheeks flush. "I-I doubt he did all that for me. He's a dedicated knight, you know… Who told you that anyways?"

Wil grinned. "Rath did!" He turned to the Sacaen nomad, who nodded placidly.

"… I overheard him say it to another knight," Rath explained, his expression unchanging. "He was worried about your safety."

Rebecca felt her face grow hotter, even as a smile crept onto it. "I-is that so? I've been trying to find him all day… I haven't gotten the chance to thank him, or to even see how he's doing."

"Oh yeah, he's being chased around by all the girls, isn't he?" Wil laughed. "I don't think anyone expected him to look that good. It's kind of funny how everyone's gotten all crazy about it, it's sort of like those weird berserk spells staff users cast in battle that make you forget what's up and what's down – but at least that can be cured, right?" He looked to Rath, who nodded absently, clearly more concentrated on making arrows than whatever it was his companion was saying. Wil beamed at the reaction regardless.

"Hey, Rebecca! Why not give up your search for a little while? Me and Rath are going hunting for lunch and dinner soon and we could always use some help!" he suggested happily. "We asked Louise to come, but she said she had some things she had to do with Pent – something about Erk needing guidance or something? – and there really aren't many other people in camp that know how to use a bow. At least not well." Wil pouted cutely. "Please?"

Rebecca laughed. "Alright, I'll go. I don't think I'll be able to find Sir Lowen anytime soon anyways."

"Great! But, uh, we're going to be taking horses out. I mean you don't have to shoot from one if you don't want to, but we're going a ways away. Rath has his own and I'm borrowing Kent's! I could ask Sain if he'd let you borrow his if you want! Or, wait… can you ride or not? I forget."

"Actually, Sir Lowen has taught me something of riding," she said, smiling at the memories. "I can't shoot from the saddle, but I can ride. If he hasn't taken his steed anywhere, I'll go ask Sir Marcus if I could take him out. I've gotten quite used to riding him."

Wil arched his eyebrows in a comically suspicious manner. "Really? I hadn't realized how close you and Lowen were."

Rebecca blushed at the implication. "We've just been together for a while! … I-I mean, you know, with Lord Eliwood's army!" She felt her cheeks tinge even more as Wil grinned at the self-incriminating evidence.

"You _like_ him!" he shouted. Rebecca shushed him just as loudly.

"_Wil!_" she hissed. "I… I'll talk to you about it later! I'll just go get the horse now!" She whirled around and practically sprinted away from her fellow archers.

"See!" Wil said to Rath, once she was out of earshot. "I told you she liked him! I bet Lowen likes her too! They'd make a cute couple, don't you think so?" Rath nodded, placing all his newly made arrows into his quiver.

Wil frowned. "Hey Rath, how come you never talk?"

"… Because you talk enough for the both of us," the nomad responded evenly, and he stood up to go retrieve his own mare.

"What! Rath—Hey! _Rath!_ Wait!"

**x x x**

Lowen looked left. Then right. Then left again, then right again. He took a deep breath.

The last time he was so incautious as to step out without looking where he was going – or more importantly, who was coming – he nearly bumped right into a dreamy-eyed Lucius, who was being toted around by a rather disgruntled Raven. He could only image how that encounter would have gone.

But now the path was clear, and there wasn't anyone in sight. If he could make a rush to his tent, maybe he'd be safe there for a while.

He stretched his foot out. It touched ground.

"_There_ you are, Lowen!"

Panic shot up Lowen's spine as he turned to meet his attacker, but was somewhat relieved to find a friendly face staring back at him. Well, Nino was more of a friend-of-a-friend, but she didn't look like she was going to make a scene by squealing obscenities or starting a fight. The presence of the assassin behind her was enough to keep Lowen in a state of uneasiness, however.

"G-good day to you, Nino," he said, trying his best to be cordial in his state of paranoia. "… And to you as well, Jaffar."

"Where have you been all day?!" Nino demanded, marching over towards him. "Rebecca's been looking for you since breakfast!"

The name made Lowen's heart skip a beat. "R-Rebecca?" he asked, his voice squeaking ever so slightly.

"Yeah!" Nino said. "I told her me and Jaffar would help her look for you! Oh—right!" She conjured up a small fireball in her hands and released it into the air, the spell fizzling into an array of multicolored sparks once it was several feet above their heads. She looked back to Lowen and smiled. "There! That was to let her know I've found you! Now we gotta go over to your tent to wait for her there."

"I was actually headed that way before we crossed paths…"

"Really? Perfect!" Nino beamed. "Well, come on then, handsome!" She giggled as Lowen blushed at the compliment and skipped off, leading the way to the tent.

Before the young knight could take another precarious step into the dangers that lie within the camp, his eyes met momentarily with Jaffar's. The assassin glared a glare the likes of which Lowen had never seen. The compliment given by Nino was no doubt the source of the malice in his gaze, promising to kill the cavalier should his interest ever fall from one green-haired girl to another.

No, Lowen thought as Jaffar turned abruptly to follow the mage. 'Kill' was far too sweet and harmless a word for what the assassin had in mind. _Merciless slaughter_ was much more like it.

Swallowing his anxiety from his latest death threat, Lowen forced one foot in front of the other as he followed Nino and Jaffar to where he dearly hoped waited the one person he truly wanted to see.

* * *

**A/N:** So it appears I no longer have the ability to write short chapters. I hope the length of this made up for the lateness, though I highly doubt that. There's only one chapter left! What will become of Lowen and Rebecca's situation? More importantly, will it take me another four years to write it? Stayed tuned to find out!


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